Conversations with the Sparrow
by Rae Roberts
Summary: A series of conversations between Captain Jack Sparrow and an alienated young author take place under unusual circumstances. Earth cross over. Complete.
1. Sea of Dreams

Disclaimer: The author does not claim to own Pizza Hut, Coca-cola, McDonald's, or any of the original material from the movie "Pirates of the Caribbean. Resemblance to any person named Lauren is strictly coincidence. The line of poetry in chapter seven is from a song, "Love Hurts," as recorded by the band Nazareth. I'm not sure who wrote the lyrics, but it wasn't me.

  


  


  


  


Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the helm of his beloved _Black Pearl_. An ocean of rum rolled under a silver moon. The moonlight sketched a shimmering path through the waves. A path that he would follow to riches and glory. Jack threw back his head and laughed in delight, thinking of the bucket he could lower over the side to bring up more rum whenever he wanted. Rum stretched to the horizon. He could order the crew to swab the deck with rum ! A sound interrupted his beautiful dream. Jack groaned and stirred in his berth. He kept his eyes closed and willed himself back to sleep. 

  


Too many distractions intruded on his consciousness. His chest rose and fell with the slow, even rhythm of his breathing. Why, then, did his ears pick up the sound of breath coming rapid and shallow from beside and slightly above him ? His long hair was pinned to the mattress. Jack took inventory. That wasn't his arm on his hair. Someone else's arm. Someone else's breathing. 

  


Jack came to the conclusion that someone else was in his berth with him. _That could be interesting_, he thought. Abandoning the sea of rum, he opened his eyes. Yes, there was definitely someone else there. A young girl, no more than thirteen. _That was interesting, all right._ Jack absorbed the disappointment. He had hoped, for a moment there. 

  


The girl gazed down at him with big blue eyes. Jack didn't like the look in them. He'd seen that look too many times before. Kohl-rimmed brown stared into innocent blue. Jack blinked first. "Do ye mind, love ?" he said, finally. "Ye're on me hair..."

  


"Oh !" the girl shifted awkwardly. "Sorry about that." She continued to stare.

  


"Was there somethin' ye had in mind ?" Jack prompted. _That was a poor turn of phrase_, he chided himself. _Well, she did wake me right out of a lovely dream_, he defended himself to himself. Jack paused his internal dialog to check on the intruder. She was still staring. _Does she ever blink ?_ he wondered.

  


Jack raised an eyebrow encouragingly. The girl in his berth closed her eyes. _She's going to blink. Well, that's something, anyway. _And lowered her face to his. _Not good._ She kissed him, hard, her mouth closed tightly. He felt his own lips pressed uncomfortably against his teeth. The girl in his berth withdrew, looked at him. She seemed confused. 

  


"I love you," she said. Jack winced. Those words, inevitably, led to his face being slapped, sooner or later.

  


"I don't think that's a good idea, love," he suggested. The girl looked confused and disappointed.

  


"This is a dream, isn't it ?" she asked. Her lip trembled. _Not good. _

  


"Well, it might be yer dream, love. Mine was about rum." She pushed away from him, backing across the cabin. _That's better_, he thought. The blue eyes filled with tears. _No, not tears ! _Tears led to slapping. His cheek stung with the memory. Jack got up and quickly pulled on a shirt. He buckled his sword belt around his waist. Not that he would use the sword on the girl, but he felt better, now that he was armed. He sat and pulled on his boots. The pirate captain lowered his head, pretending to examine the toe of his left boot. Surreptitiously, he peered at the girl in his cabin through locks of hair and strings of beads.

  


She was pacing, no longer crying. She seemed to be working herself up to be angry. Tousled blond hair swung around her face as she paced back and forth. She was tall, Jack noted, but thin under her strange, baggy grey clothing. Jack harbored the hope that she wouldn't slap very hard. "Might I have yer name, love ?" he ventured.

  


"It's Lauren, and don't call me love !" she spat, whirling to face him. "Who do you think you are, anyway ?"

  


"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love – Lauren," he replied, cocky, spreading his hands. "Lauren. But I'm thinkin' ye knew that, didn't ye ?"

  


The tears seemed to be starting again. "You're a _dream_. Why can't I wake up ? This is not going the way it should !"

  


Jack considered himself. He held out his arms and looked at them in the dim light from the moon shining through the cabin window. They were solid, which was not really a surprise, but nice all the same. He had been a skeleton before, but no one had ever accused him of being a dream. "Perhaps 'tis ye who are the dream, and I imagined ye," he hazarded. _Maybe the ocean was still made of rum._

  


"I'm real," Lauren protested. "_You_ are a fictional character. From a movie." She cast him a worried look. "You don't think I'm going crazy, do you ?"

  


"I'm really not the one ye should be askin', love...lass...Lauren." he replied. "What exactly did ye want from me ?" _I probably shouldn't have asked her that._

  


"I'm not sure, now," she said. "I loved you in the movie, you know. I've seen it four times."

  


"Movie ?" Jack ducked slightly and looked around the cabin suspiciously. The ceiling provided no inspiration. 

  


"Uh, never mind," Lauren said, hurriedly. "Look, pinch me, would you ? I mean, that's the test to see if you're dreaming, right ?" She held out her arm.

  


Jack wove toward her, reaching out for the offered arm, then drew back, snake-like. "If I pinch, ye won't slap, now, will ye ?" She shook her head. "There's a good girl," he responded, relieved. He reached out and pinched her arm, not too hard. He withdrew quickly and waited for the reaction.

  


"I don't think I'm dreaming," she replied. "I wrote about you. I don't think I fell asleep, but I must have." Her eyes met his, amazed. "All of a sudden, _poof_, I was here." She looked very young and scared. "I just want to go home."

  


"Here's a plan." Jack sketched the air with his fingers spread apart. "All of a sudden, _poof_, an' ye were in me berth, right ?" Lauren blushed. He continued hastily, before the tears could begin again. "Why don't ye just..._poof_" his fingers spread, "an' home ye go ?"

  


"That won't work," the girl retorted, frowning. "I mean, really, how am I supposed to -"

  


_Poof_. 

  


Captain Jack Sparrow startled, springing back a step. He turned carefully, arms out, swaying. After a complete turn, he was sure. He was alone in the cabin. _Now_ that _was interesting_.

  



	2. A Bottle of Rum

_Poof. _

  


Lauren stood in her own bedroom. The digital alarm clock was blaring a commercial for Toyotas. She crossed to the nightstand and turned it off. _What was I doing ? Sleepwalking ? _The bed had not been slept in. 

  


On the desk lay a pile of loose leaf notebook paper; the story of Captain Jack Sparrow and how he fell in love with her. Lauren grabbed the pages and crumpled them in disgust. She had never intended to post them; it had just seemed something fun to write, and fantasize about. _Ugh. What a Mary Sue_, she thought, throwing the story in the trash.

  


"Lauren, you awake ?" called her mother through the door.

  


"Yeah, I'm up. Getting dressed now," she called back automatically. Her eyes felt gritty. She didn't feel as though she had gotten any sleep.

  


The day did not get better. Lauren got off the afternoon bus and strolled up the street. She loitered on purpose. It did no good. Shari and her little clique of friends were waiting for her on Shari's front stoop. "Gothic freak."

  


She ignored them, the hair on the back of her neck prickling as she walked away. "Loser." Their familiar taunts followed her up the street.

  


Reaching the townhouse, Lauren fumbled at her neckline, then in her pocket. _Oh, no. _She searched each compartment of her backpack, knowing it was useless. The house key, on the chain she normally wore around her neck, lay on her bedside table. _Aaah. Could this day get any worse ?_

  


Lauren sat cross legged on the stoop, math book on her lap. She wasn't making any progress. Skateboard wheels rumbled along the sidewalk. She ignored them. They rumbled past again in the other direction, then again. With a bang, the rumbling stopped. Lauren looked up through her bangs. A dark-haired boy her own age stood on the sidewalk, skateboard propped on end against his leg. 

  


"Hey, whassup ?"

_  
What's his name...Leon, Leroy ? Whatever. _"Nothing. Math homework."

  


"You in Ms Rhodes class ?" He rocked the skateboard back and forth, turning in half circles.

  


"Um, yeah." _Go away, 'skater boi'. I am_ not _in the mood for chit-chat._

  


"Me too, fifth period. I'm pretty good at math..." She ignored him, pretending to be intent on copying the problems from the book. "Fine, then. Whatever." Thankfully, the wheels rumbled away and did not return.

  


_Ugh. This is impossible ! Fractions. _Lauren's thoughts returned to the disturbing dream of the night before. _You'd think I could at least do something right in a freakin' dream,_ she thought, disgustedly. Still, it was strange. She was sure she hadn't been asleep. She remembered the pirate captain spreading his fingers and saying "poof". Lauren giggled. _Hmm, I wonder. Nah, don't be a dork._

  


Captain Jack Sparrow sat at the table in his cabin, alone, drinking a glass of rum. The moonlight spilled through the windows, almost negating the need for the candles on the table. It was late; wax drippings hung in sheets from the brass candlesticks. Jack wasn't drunk, nor did he intend to get drunk. _Just a glass or two of rum to soften the edges a bit._

  


Thud. 

  


Jack startled and swept the cabin with wide eyes, looking for the source of the soft, abrupt sound. A young girl sat cross-legged on his berth. Wide blue eyes stared into his from under long blond bangs. Jack looked away, into his glass. The rum in its depths provided him with no inspiration. _I am definitely not drunk. _Then his mind turned to a half-remembered dream from a week ago. He swirled the rum in his glass. A sea of rum...and a girl in his berth.

  


"Uh, hello. Am I interrupting anything ?" Jack raised his eyes. The girl in his berth was standing in front of him. He leaned back, assessing the problem. If he stood, the top of her head would come up to his chin, he thought. She wore an odd, tight-fitting black shirt of some clingy material. Baggy black canvas pants. Black, silver, and red hoops ringed her forearms; some sort of bracelets. Her face was rounded, still immature. She would be pretty, in a few more years, he decided.

  


"Hello. Yer my dream, are ye ?" he greeted her. A name, there was something about a name..._Lassie, Laurie_... 

  


"I'm Lauren. And you really are Captain Jack Sparrow, aren't you," she said, wonderingly.

  


"Aye." He nodded, pleased with her use of his title. "And what might bring ye here, Lauren ?" _I am not drunk. I am not asleep._

  


She blushed. "Um, I don't really know. I wanted to see if I could, kind of. You know, on purpose." He cocked his head, questioning. She went on in a rush. "You remember, you said maybe I could just _poof_, you know, and go home. And I did. It wasn't a dream. And just now, I was locked out of my house, so I thought, well, I'd give it a try..." 

  


The flow of words stopped. The Girl looked embarrassed. Jack recalled tears. _Let's try to avoid that, shall we ?_ "So, yer sayin' that yer not dreamin', and I'm not dreamin', so here ye are. Lauren." He tried a smile. "Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_." She stood there, awkwardly. Jack pushed a chair in her direction with his foot. "Here, love, have yerself a seat."

  


Lauren plopped down gracelessly, putting the textbook down on the table. "I can't believe you're real," she commented. "In my world, you're a movie character."

  


"In my world, I'm real," he said, indicating himself with a wave of his hand. _My world._ Funny, that was. The _Black Pearl_ was his world. It amused the pirate to think of the whole world belonging to him. "Wot's that ? Movie," he added, when she looked blank.

  


"Oh, a movie. It's like," she hesitated, groping for the right words. "Like a story, you know, with pictures. Only the pictures move, on a big screen, so it looks real." 

  


"Ah." There didn't seem to be much to say to that. They sat in silence for a minute, Jack eyeing the bracelets on her arms. The slender hoops looked soft, rubbery. His fingers stretched, spider like, toward them, then retreated. The silence stretched, uncomfortably. Jack spider-walked his fingers across to Lauren's book, pulled it to him. "Wot's this ? Picture book ?" He wondered, briefly, if this book from another world would reveal a picture of himself, or of the _Pearl_.

  


"Nah. Math," said the girl, disgustedly. "I hate it. In my world, see, I have to go to school, like, eight hours a day. I'm in the eighth grade. It is _so stupid _! Tons of stuff that I will never use in the real world, like civics and home ec and crap. And people calling you freak, loser, worse even, just because they're jocks and cheerleaders and popular kids, they just can't leave a person alone..."

  


Jack let the torrent of her words wash over him, uncomprehending. _The girl was hurt and angry; that was what it all meant._ The phrase 'real world' caught his imagination. _Her world, or me own ?_

  


Idly, he flipped open the textbook. A pencil held the spot. He picked it up and spun it in his fingers. Smooth white paper with thin blue lines lay between the opened pages. The pencil swooped and hovered over the numbers there. Almost without thinking, he noted the error. Jack scratched a line through Lauren's first answer, corrected it, began to write more.

  


Lauren stopped in mid-rant, watching in surprise as the pirate off-handedly completed the first line of problems in her homework assignment. "Hey, how did you do that ?"

  


Jack leaned back, frowned slightly. "It's basic arithmetic, love," he replied. 

  


"You're a pirate. Pirates don't have to know math !"

  


"Pirate Captain," he corrected her, pointedly. "And I do have to know arith...math. Navigation, savvy ? How I'm to get me ship from here to there without gettin' lost ?" As Jack spoke he sketched a circle in the air with the pencil, jabbed two points, connected them with a curving line.

  


Obviously the thought had never occurred to her. "Show me how you did that," she demanded. "I understand the first part, but then I get confused."

  


"Here," the pencil flew across the page as he showed her the process. Then, solemnly, he handed her the writing implement. For the next ten minutes there was no sound in the cabin except the scratching of the pencil and the occasional comment or correction from Jack. "No, reduce it. That's right."

  


The angry girl crowed in delight, causing Jack to start back from her in alarm. "Woo ! I get it !" She grinned at Jack. "Thank you !"

  


"Any time, love." _Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say._ He really didn't want to encourage her. That _poof _thing she did was disturbing. "Er, listen, love, it's late. Don't ye have a mother or someone who might be worryin' about ye ?"

  


Lauren's eyes widened. "Mom ! How long have I been here, do you think ? Oh man, if she comes home and I'm not there, that would not be cool." She jumped up abruptly, gathering her things. "Uh, look, thanks, and all, I think I'd better-"

  


_Poof._

  


This time, Captain Jack Sparrow merely flinched. _Handled that rather well, I did._ He didn't even bother to look around the room; the angry girl was gone. He could feel her absence, somehow. Instead, he turned to his glass, refilling it from the bottle nearby. He hadn't meant to get drunk this night, but under the circumstances, it seemed like a good thing to do. 

  



	3. A Glass of Coke

Captain Jack Sparrow lay in his berth. Fully dressed. Alone. _Thank whatever gods I might possibly believe in,_ he thought, vaguely. He was almost asleep. His mind drifted through events of the past day. His lips curved in a smile. His hand gripped the empty air, imagining the helm of the _Pearl _beneath it. Memory merged seamlessly into dream as the pirate drifted. 

  


He stood at the helm of his world, body swaying with the rhythm of the waves, the tattered strands of his long brown hair blowing in the wind. His brown eyes sparkled madly as he scanned the horizon. _Just keep a straight face; no sense gettin' her more worked up than she already is,_ he thought. It was good advice, but Jack had to struggle not to grin each time he glanced at the woman standing by his side.

  


Anamaria stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her jaw thrust out pugnaciously. She narrowed her eyes as she watched the new sailor nimbly descending the shrouds. Anamaria's annoyance was palpable. Jack cast his eyes sideways at her from under lowered lashes, smirked surreptitiously, and returned his gaze to the horizon.

  


The new lad trotted across the deck, came up short in front of Anamaria, saluted smartly. "Tops'l reefed, Anamaria, _sir !_" Jack's lips twitched. The boy had spent the past forty-five minutes aloft, laboring heroically to reef the topsail all by his lonesome, a job normally requiring half a dozen men. The fact that it was a clear, sunny day with no sign of foul weather only made the situation more hilarious, in Jack's eyes. There was no need to reef the topsail, a fact that Anamaria knew full well.

  


Anamaria stood rigid, glaring at a spot roughly four inches above the young sailor's head. Jack squinted, trying to make out what she saw there to interest her so. The sailor, named Edward but promptly nicknamed Eddy by the crew, maintained an equally rigid stance. He stood at attention, waiting for his salute to be returned. Commodore Norrington could not have shown better military form. Jack's eyes went from Anamaria to Eddy, and back again, his shoulders weaving slightly as his concentration shifted from one to the other. Neither was going to submit, he saw. The battle of wills amused him. _Especially seein' as the boy doesn't even know there's a battle goin' on. _Jack had no difficulty picturing the two members of his crew standing frozen in this tableau for hours. He stifled a laugh and decided to break the stalemate. _What will she order him to do next ?_ With effort, he maintained a fairly straight face as he returned the salute, sidling back from the helm and bowing slightly as he did so.   
  
Annoyance hung in a thick cloud around Anamaria, raising the hairs on the back of Jack's neck and causing him to flinch aside even as his body shook with suppressed mirth. 

  


"Shift the ballast," she gritted tightly.

  


Eddy sprang to attention again immediately, his fresh young face glowing with pure joy at the possibility of obeying yet another pointless order. "Ay, ay, _sir !_" He spun smartly on his heel and moments later disappeared into the hold of the ship. 

  


"Anamaria, love," Jack began, sliding away from the woman slightly and raising one hand in a gesture designed to placate. Without his noticing it, his feet moved to a defensive stance. "I don't mean to be interruptin' yer work, but ye do know that once young Eddy succeeds in shiftin' the ballast, the _Pearl _will be heeled over quite a bit, right ?" He listed to one side, his body unconsciously illustrating his words. "Not that that'd be a problem," he added hastily, as her eyes met his.

  


"When he's done, I'll have him shift it _back_," she retorted. 

  


Jack cocked his head, listening. "Wot's that noise -" he began, puzzled, then realized. It was the sound of Anamaria's teeth grinding together. "Ah. Never mind." He returned his gaze to the horizon, chuckling to himself at the thought of Anamaria's ongoing struggle to acclimate to the new crew member. 

  


Jack's mind, dreaming, carried him effortlessly back to Tortuga, where they had found the young sailor. Eddy was an orphan, he'd told them, son of a prostitute who had died of consumption. _Not all that improbable, really._ But Eddy's mum had actually secretly been some sort of noblewoman. Countess ? Baroness ? The details weren't clear. She had been kidnapped from her palatial home by a pirate, who had promptly fallen in love with her, then been killed; hit by a cannonball. _Convenient,_ thought Jack_. _Eddy was the result of the star-crossed love affair between baroness and pirate. 

  


Anamaria had been incensed by the boy's story. "If yer goin' to lie, at least make it convincing," she had grouched to Mr. Cotton.

  


"Love hurts," responded Mr. Cotton's parrot, incongruously. Anamaria had taken that as agreement. The rest of the sailors, used to dealing with lunatics and liars, had accepted the boy's story at face value. For one thing, he seemed too open and innocent to deliberately lie. And if his harmless story was a lie, so what ? If Eddy wanted to hide his past, the crew of the _Pearl _was not about to judge. 

  


Eddy had endeared himself to the entire crew with his cheerful naivete. He was a surprisingly good sailor, a hard worker, and clearly adored the _Black Pearl_ as much as the rest of them did. Within a week, they had accepted him as one of their own. All except Anamaria. 

  


The pirate captain's mouth quirked into yet another smile as he dreamed, picturing Anamaria. Eddy's sincerity elicited her distrust. She was offended by his competence. His insistance on calling her 'sir' irked her beyond all reason. His adoration for the entire crew, bordering on worship, disgusted her even more than if he had attempted a pass at her. If the boy had made a pass at Anamaria, she would have simply decked him then and there, and the matter would have been settled a week ago. 

  


Eddy was too crazy or too naive to even contemplate it, though, which had led to Anamaria's attempts to break the boy, a battle that had begun early that morning with her ordering Eddy to clean the head. Jack drifted in his berth, dreaming, remembering. Eddy had cleaned the head with an enthusiasm that enraged her, then swabbed the deck. The entire deck, by himself. Jack stirred in his berth, laughed, almost inaudibly. 

  


_She'll give up on hatin' him long before he'll give up on carryin' out her orders,_ Jack thought. He knew that Anamaria would come around soon. The rest of the crew had it right; young Eddy might be a lunatic, but he was their lunatic. The pirate's hand fell open on the rough blanket as he sank deeper into sleep, beyond the reach of memories or dreams.

  


  


_Rumble._

  


  


"You sittin' out here again ?" The boy regarded her from atop his skateboard as he rumbled by.

  


_He was ok,_ Lauren decided. "Yeah, locked my key in the house," she replied as he turned and rumbled back.

  


"That sucks. Can you break in through a window, maybe ?"

  


"Nah, my mom would kill me." _He has nice-looking brown eyes. Long eyelashes. _He was a lot shorter than her, though.

  


"Tough luck." The boy flipped his skateboard off the ground with his foot, propped it against his leg. They looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. 

  


"My name's Lauren," she offered.

  


"Uh, hi. I'm Leonard. Leonard Nichols." He hesitated. "Wanna walk over to Pizza Hut, get a coke ? Since you're stuck out here anyway," he added, diffidently.

  


She wavered for a moment. "Yeah, why not."

  


"You mind ?" he asked, stashing the skateboard in the bushes beside the stoop. Lauren shook her head. They walked up the street. Shari and one of her friends were hanging out by the mailboxes. 

  


"Uh, let's cross here," she suggested, trying to sound casual. They crossed the street, passing by the girls without looking in their direction. The jeers started after they had passed by.

  


"What a freak."

  


"Yeah, _cute couple_." 

  


"Just ignore them," said Leonard.

  


"I _hate_ them," Lauren gritted. "Why can't people leave you alone ? I mean, the popular girls like Shari hate me because they think I'm a goth. And you know what ? The gothic chicks hate me and call me a wannabe."

  


"Yeah, I know, kinda like all the Hispanic kids think I should speak Spanish, and then when they find out I don't, it's like they think I'm some kind of fake or something."

  


"What, you're not Hispanic ?" _You look Hispanic,_ she thought. _But not with a name like Leonard Nichols, I guess._

  


"My dad was, so yeah, I am, I guess. But he and my mom broke up when I was a baby. I never see him. My step dad is, like, Irish or something. It's no big deal. Some people are just prejudiced, you know ?"

  


"Yeah. That's so stupid. That's one of the things I hate about school." She looked at him sidelong, from under her bangs. "My parents divorced last year. That's why my mom and I moved here."

  


"That's too bad... so, you hate school and you're bad at math," he grinned, changing the subject.

  


"I am _not_ bad at math, well, much," she denied. "I'm good in English, though."

  


"I hate English !" announced Leonard. "With math, there's like, one right answer. It's either right or wrong. With writing, it's so dumb, I mean, look at the English language, the word 'there' has three different meanings, and spellings ! How stupid is that ?"

  


They had reached Pizza Hut. Leonard held the door for her. Lauren walked through, feeling clumsy. They ordered cokes, got the drinks, sat down at a booth. "I like English," Lauren ventured. "I love writing. I have some stories posted on line, on this fan fiction web site." _Oh, that was great, just great. Why not just have _dork _tattooed on my forehead ?_

  


"Hey, that's cool," Leonard responded. He seemed sincere. "Dumb question, uh, what's a fan fiction ?"

  


"It's when you take a movie, and write your own story about it, you know, based on the characters. Or people write them based on TV or books," she added.

  


"So what do you write about ?" he asked.

  


"It's stupid, really." _What if he wants to read my stuff ? I would die. _It was one thing to have complete strangers read her stories, but not someone she knew. 

  


"No, really, what ? Our computer at home sucks," he added, "I can never get on line, the thing is so slow."

  


_Well, that's a relief._ "Um, you know 'Pirates of the Caribbean' ?"

  


"Yeah, that was a good movie. I actually saw it twice."

  


"I've seen it four times," she said, looking to see if he thought that was weird. He didn't look as though he was creeped out. "I write stories about what happens after the movie, new adventures for them, you know ? Some people write these dorky stories about how the Captain, you know, Jack Sparrow, like, falls in love with them. It's really dumb," she trailed off.

  


"Yeah, like girls thinking they are gonna marry Johnny Depp," Leonard responded. "My older sister is like that. As though some famous Hollywood actor is gonna magically appear in the McDonald's drive through and ask a sixteen year old girl working there to marry him," he snorted. "So, what do you put in your stories ?" he asked.

  


"Well, don't laugh, ok ?" He shook his head, looking at her intently. "I just wrote one about this orphan boy. He's really poor and all, but he's not what he seems, and he joins the crew of the _Black Pearl._ Then he has all these adventures." Leonard didn't laugh. _He actually looked interested. _"I just put up chapter 3 last night. The story already got 14 reviews," she said happily.

  



	4. And Another Bottle of Rum

Captain Jack Sparrow was almost asleep when the girl arrived in his cabin for the third time. At the now-familiar _poof, _he sprang out of his berth and faced her warily. For the past week he had been sleeping fully clothed, jumping out of bed at the slightest sound. _Ha ! _he thought. _I knew that would eventually pay off. _Thankfully, she was standing on the floor rather than lying in his bed.

  


"Lauren, how kind of ye to drop in," he said ironically. She blushed. He gestured toward a chair. She took the hint and sat down. She still had that look in her eye. _What did I ever do to deserve this ?_ Jack asked himself as he took his customary seat, bottle close at hand. _Oh, I don't know, might it be all that pillagin' and plunderin', maybe ?_ he responded to himself. _Ah, sod off !_ the first internal voice retorted, peeved. The pirate poured himself a glass of rum. _I'll be needin' this. _

  


"Um, sorry if I woke you," Lauren stammered, embarrassed. She had come on a whim, and now wondered briefly if it had been a good idea. 

  


"Oh, no trouble, no trouble at all, love," he replied, rubbing his eyes with one hand and taking a healthy swig of rum. The girl looked relieved. _Sarcasm is wasted on her, obviously. _Belatedly, Jack remembered his manners. "Little drink, then ?" he asked, indicating the bottle with a lordly wave of his hand. 

  


"Uh, no," she replied, slightly shocked. "Thanks...I'm not old enough to drink alcohol." _Yer not old enough to be visitin' me cabin in the night, either,_ Jack thought, exasperated. She gazed at him with those big, heartbreakingly innocent blue eyes. _No, not likin' that look in them, not at all._ Jack's own brown eyes rolled to the ceiling beams. As usual, they failed to inspire.

  


"Well, I wanted to thank you for helping me with my math." She smiled disarmingly, suddenly becoming animated. "It's great, I got a 'B' this semester."

  


"Ah. Good," he began, then frowned, leaned sideways a bit and peered at her. "Gettin' a bee would be a good thing, right ?"

  


"_Hello ? _Of course it's good." The expression she used was unfamiliar to Jack, but the sarcasm was not lost on him. "I mean, not as good as an 'A', but for me, it's great." She thought for a moment. "Why, what did you get when you did well in school ?" Lauren asked.

  


The captain of the _Black Pearl_ raised his eyebrows. "Not beaten," he replied, shortly. His formal education had all taken place before the mast.

  


"Oh," said Lauren, her voice small. She blushed again, traced the white rings, left on the table from countless glasses of rum, with her fingers. Jack noted that her fingernails were shiny and blue. _Some kind of paint. Interesting._ She wasn't wearing the bracelets that had intrigued him before. A thin brown scar ran along one forearm. He wondered, momentarily, what had caused it, before his mind and eyes wandered on in their inspection.

  


The girl continued to stare at the table, her discomfort so palpable in the tiny room that it made his skin crawl. He shuddered, took another drink of rum. "So, ye're British too, are ye ?" he asked, attempting to break the tension. _Can't place the accent. _The girl looked at him blankly. "Yer flyin' the Union Jack, love," he said, saluting her briefly. She cocked her head, frowning. "Yer, um, shirt ?" he pointed at the British flag that adorned the front of Lauren's T shirt.

  


The girl blushed furiously, started to cross her arms over her chest, then seemed to reconsider and left them at her sides. She lifted her chin defiantly. The girl's stubborn refusal to be totally intimidated by him did have a certain charm, Jack admitted to himself. It was also intensely annoying. "I'm American, actually," Lauren replied. 

  


"Ah." he steepled his fingers, considering her answer. Risked another glance at the flag. "Wasn't there somethin' about a war ? War of Independence, wasn't it ?" 

  


"That was like, over two hundred years ago," Lauren informed him. "England and America are allies now."

  


"In yer world," he clarified. She nodded. " I suppose that makes yer world the future, then," he said, shifting his weight and sitting up straighter in his chair.

  


"Kind of. You know," she said slowly, trying to be tactful, "Your world isn't real. I mean, yeah, it's set in the past and all, but it's from a movie."

  


Captain Jack Sparrow cocked an eyebrow at her, turned slightly and pointed vaguely toward the cabin window. His arm swung in a wide arc, indicating the sea. "So what yer sayin', love, is I'm nothin' more than a fairy tale invented for yer amusement ?" The pointing finger described a circle in the air, jabbed in her direction.

  


"Um, no, I guess not." She hesitated, honesty battling with diplomacy. "Well, actually, no offense, but...yes."

  


Jack's mind absorbed this idea. His ego discarded it as irrelevant. _This is my world._ "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love," he declared with a cocky grin. "I'm real. Now, it seems ye may have misplaced yerself in my world, but that's no concern of mine." _And it's high time ye took yerself out of me world,_ he decided. "Look, ye need to get back home. To yer own world, where ye belong," he said, not unkindly. "Go ahead, do that thing ye do." Leaning back in his chair, he waited, expectantly. His hands raised up towards her, fingers pressed together, then abruptly splayed apart. "Ye know, love..._poof_."

  


"Yeah, ok. It's getting late," she responded, obviously let down. Her shoulders actually slumped. The pirate's shoulders slumped in unconscious empathy. "Oh ! Wait, I forgot ! I wanted to ask you something !" She perked up, smiled brilliantly at him. 

  


_She really knew how to keep a man off his guard,_ he thought, a bit desperately. "Yes, love ?" he queried.

  


"Edward. Did you happen to meet a young boy named Edward recently, in Tortuga ?" she asked, leaning forward eagerly. 

  


"Edward, Edward...Oh, ye mean young Eddy. Aye, ye know him ?"

  


"I wrote him," she replied, proud, yet suddenly shy again. 

  


Jack's eyes roamed over the ceiling. His right hand gripped an imaginary pen, unconsciously scribbled in the air. The eyes swooped back to meet hers, quizzical. "Wot, our Eddy ? Thin lad, dark curly hair, can't complete a full sentence without sayin' 'Arrr' ?" 

  


"I wanted him to sound authentic," she said, defensive. "You know, like a real pirate." She looked concerned. "You don't like him ?"

  


"Let me see if I understand, love. Ye say ye wrote him. Ye mean, one of yer movie stories ? Ye wrote about him ?"

  


"Um, yeah, I wrote that he joined your crew, and he did, didn't he ?" The girl looked pleased with herself.

  


Jack laughed out loud, delighted at the thought of Eddy as a figment of this girl's imagination. _That would explain a lot. _"Well, let's see, love... he's a complete lunatic, goin' to give Anamaria a heart attack one of these days, terrible vocabulary..." Blue eyes widened, not certain how to take this assessment of her creation. "Wonderful singin' voice," Jack went on. He chuckled and raised his glass to her in salute. "Oh, aye, we like him just fine."

  


Lauren grinned again. "Oh, that is so _cool,_" she crowed. Jack jumped in his seat, gave a disgruntled sigh, leaned back in his chair. The girl continued to smile and stare at him with those innocent blue eyes.

  


"That really is cool," she said again, dreamily. "Uh, yeah, I should be going, huh ? Well, all right then," her voice trailed off. Then, softly, "Goodnight."

  


_Poof. _

  


Captain Jack Sparrow shook his head ruefully and drained his glass. Looking around the cabin shiftily, he got up after a few minutes and began, cautiously, to undress. _Sleeping in me clothes is too uncomfortable, _he thought, unbuckling his sword belt and laying it aside. He startled at nothing, spun around, sighed with relief that no one was there. _It'll be a week at least before she comes back,_ he reassured himself. _She's never come back twice in one night_, he tried again, as his self refused to be reassured by his first reassurance. Weaving slightly as his eyes peered from one side to the other, the pirate crossed his cabin and dropped into his berth. Exhausted, he fell into the first deep sleep he'd enjoyed in days . 

  



	5. The Key to Her Heart

_Rumble_.

  


Lauren turned at the familiar sound. It was Leonard, on his skateboard, grinning. "Hey."

  


"Hey," she replied, smiling. He pushed off with his foot, rolled slowly along beside her until they reached her house.

  


"Got your key today ?" he asked.

  


She pulled the chain out, dangled the key. "Yeah," she grinned.

  


"Cool," he said, "Look, put your stuff inside and take a walk with me ? I have an idea." He looked nervous. "Uh, kind of like a surprise," he added, looking sidelong at her.

  


She stifled a giggle. "Ok." He stowed the skateboard in the bushes. The walked up the street. Thankfully, Shari was nowhere in sight. They walked to the main street, then up the road toward the shopping plaza. Leonard bypassed Pizza Hut; led Lauren to the hardware store. Bemused, she followed him to a counter in the back. 

  


He grinned, pleased with himself. "We're going to get a spare key made. That way I can let you in if you forget yours."

  


"Aw, that is so _sweet_ of you." 

  


He blushed. "Uh, well, it is starting to get colder out." As they walked back toward the rows of townhouses, Lauren playfully brushed the longish hair at the nape of his neck with her fingertips. "Hey, quit it," he complained, batting her hand away.

  


"But it's so cute, little curls," she giggled, reaching for his hair again.

  


"Ugh, I need a hair cut." Leonard dodged away, captured her hand in his. He did not let go. They walked hand in hand. Lauren's fingers tingled where they met his.

  


"Seriously, you should grow it long," she suggested. _Like a pirate. _

  


"Oh, yeah, like my mom would let me," he scoffed. "Anyway, it's curly. I _hate_ it." 

  


"I think you're cute. Um, handsome," she amended. They had come to a halt on the sidewalk, facing one another. He was blushing.

  


"Uh, yeah. I think you're really... uh, cute, too. I really like you, you know," his voice trailed off. 

  


_I think he wants to kiss me_, Lauren thought. The height difference was a problem, she thought, not for the first time. The top of Leonard's head was barely above her chin. _I want him to kiss me. _She sighed. The moment had already passed. They walked on, down a little hill, past the derelict playground. A rusty slide, broken swings, a bench with half of the boards broken off the back. A thin line of trees shielded the playground from the street of townhouses. Inspiration struck.

  


"Come on," she ordered. Lauren pulled Leonard to the bench. They sat down. She turned to face him, pleased with herself. She only had to slouch a little bit and their eyes were on the same level. Innocent brown stared into sparkling, worldly blue. To her surprise, Lauren didn't feel nervous. _After all, it isn't like it's my first kiss._ She had kissed a pirate captain. She smiled at Leonard encouragingly. _Well ? Come on, I can't make it any easier for you. _He blushed again, looked away, embarrassed. The tension in the air made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. 

  


_He's really shy_, Lauren thought, taking pity on him. _That's so sweet._ She looked away, lowered her eyelids, looked back at him from under her eyelashes. It was a calculated glance. Whenever Captain Jack Sparrow had looked at her that way, her heart had seemed to skip a beat. The ploy worked; Leonard abruptly leaned closer. His lips met hers. 

  


The kiss was clumsy, their lips tight, pushed against their teeth. Leonard started to pull away, humiliated. Lauren drew him back, returned the kiss. It was much better the second time. _His lips were so soft. _Leonard gasped softly as her hands came up and stroked the back of his neck. His own hands rubbed her back, hesitantly. Then they sat quietly for a while, just holding one another, her head against his shoulder. 

  


Her lower back started to cramp from slouching in the awkward position. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. He smiled and reached for her, pulling her back for another kiss. It was Lauren's turn to gasp as his tongue entered her mouth. When they broke apart at last, his brown eyes sparkled at her. She was no longer the worldly one with all the experience; Leonard had caught up to her quickly. She blushed, then grinned at him. He grinned back. Leonard walked Lauren home, deliriously happy, arm around her waist possessively.

  



	6. Sea of Tears

Lauren handed the permission slip to the school secretary, along with a brilliant smile. The secretary grimaced at her sourly. Lauren didn't notice. Ms Clark had asked her to join the staff of the school newspaper. "You're a good writer," she had told her. "You have a lot of talent." Lauren glowed at the memory of her words. She left the office, headed for her locker.

  


Leonard was in the hallway outside the gym. Caught up in her excitement, she didn't even notice the other boys with him. They didn't usually see much of one another in school; different schedules. "Hey, Leonard ! Guess what ? I'm gonna be writing for the _Clarion_. Isn't that cool ?" she smiled brightly at him.

  


"Uh, yeah. Great," he said, noncommittally, not meeting her eyes. 

  


"_Hello ?_ It's fantastic, what's up with you ?" she asked. _Why's he in such a bad mood ?_ "Well, anyway, I won't be riding home on the regular bus today," she went on, refusing to let his attitude spoil her day. "I've got a staff meeting. I'll catch the activity bus and see you later." _A staff meeting_, she crowed to herself, loving the sound of it. 

  


"Whatever," he replied dismissively.

  


"Hey Leonard, who's that ? Your girlfriend ?" asked one of the boys, smirking.

  


"No, uh...no. She's just my neighbor." He turned and rummaged in his locker, ignoring her.

  


Lauren felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. She glared at the back of Leonard's head, then started to stalk away. One of the boys stood in her path.

  


"What are you looking at ?" she demanded, angry.

  


"Your tits," he laughed, insolently. 

  


"Ugh, you're disgusting !" she snapped, pushing past him. Tears prickled at the backs of her eyelids. She blinked them away furiously. _Stupid people. _Why did they always have to ruin a perfectly good day ? Stupid Leonard. _I thought he was my friend._

  


Later, walking home, her mood had improved somewhat. Writing for the paper was going to be cool. Leonard's attitude still hurt, though. He was waiting for her, she saw as she neared the house, jumping his skateboard over the curb at the edge of the parking lot over and over again. He saw her and rolled over. "Hey, whassup ?" he asked softly as she approached. Lauren ignored him.

  


"Aw, come on, Lauren." he stepped off the skateboard, tried to take her hand in his. 

  


"You humiliated me," she blurted, jerking her hand away. 

  


"I'm sorry. How was the newspaper thing ?"

  


"Fine." she snapped. "Not that you care."

  


"I do care," he replied. She looked away. "Look, I said I was sorry. Those guys, you know, they can be jerks sometimes."

  


"Why should I care, I'm just your _neighbor_," she spat.

  


"What, did you want me to tell them you're my girlfriend ?" he demanded, getting annoyed in return.

  


"Well, yeah, why not ? I mean, you act like I am when we're alone."

  


He blushed, threw his hands up. "Look, I like you. A lot. But...I dunno. You don't know some of those guys, I mean, the way they talk," he stopped, looked at her.

  


"So, basically you're saying you're ashamed of me ?" she asked, angrily. "Fine, whatever. I do have a little self-respect, you know." She turned away from him, fumbled with her house key. Tears flooded her eyes.

  


"Lauren, wait...that's not what I - _Fine, then !_" he shouted, his voice cracking, as she slammed the door. Grabbing his skateboard, he rode away from her house furiously, his fists clenched. Lauren watched him go from behind the curtain, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  


Later, she sat in front of her keyboard, typing a new chapter, trying not to think about Leonard. Her mother knocked softly at the door. "Lauren ? You all right, honey ?" The knob turned, rattled back and forth briefly. The door was locked.

  


"I'm fine, mom. I'm not dressed," she called, blinking back tears for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.   
  
"Oh..." her mother sounded as though she wanted to say more, but didn't insist Lauren open the door. "I love you, don't stay up too late," she called.

  


"Ok, love you too," Lauren replied, struggling to keep her voice even. She waited for what seemed like a long time before her mother's footsteps retreated down the hall. Then she turned back to the keyboard. 

  


  


_Flicker._

  


Captain Jack Sparrow sprawled in his chair, walking a gold coin across his knuckles. His body was unnaturally still. The shifting of his fingers as the coin rolled over the back of his hand was the only movement he made for long minutes at a time. Back and forth the coin flickered, over and over, the dull glint of the gold reflecting in the pirate's brown eyes. Nearby sat a bottle of rum, still half full, part of a growing collection of empty bottles. _Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. _

  


Jack palmed the coin, grabbed the bottle and drank directly from it. He had sat this way for the past three nights. The pirate was starting to look a bit worse for wear. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. His jaw, sprinkled with stubble, was set, teeth clenched. During the long days, he held himself together for the sake of his crew. By night, he kept his vigil, waiting with snake-like patience, willing the girl to appear. 

  


The coin sprang back to his fingers as he slammed the bottle back onto the table. _Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. _Jack wrapped the tattered remnants of his sanity around his will, bending it to the task at hand. He returned his mind to the words he had been silently chanting for hours, filling them with renewed purpose. _Return. Appear, _he ordered the girl. _Return. Now, damn you. Now. Appear. _The girl had not obeyed for the past three nights. She did not appear now. _She would, though. _He knew she would. _Now._

  



	7. Lost at Sea

_Poof._

  


Lauren appeared in the cabin. Captain Jack Sparrow didn't even blink. "Um, hello," she said, taking in the collection of empty bottles on the table, the coin between his fingers.

  


"Hello yerself." The coin flickered in the light of the single candle. His face was in shadow. His eyes gleamed as the coin rolled back and forth across his knuckles.

  


"That's cool, how you do that," she remarked, indicating the coin. She was beginning to feel nervous. _He was drunk. Or something. _

  


He sat, oddly still, playing with the coin. "Why are ye here ?" he asked abruptly, his voice sounding tight. 

  


"Um, I dunno. Lonely, I guess." She and Leonard had been avoiding one another for the past week . Her mother had been working late a lot lately. Returning to the empty house after school, Lauren had felt a sudden urge to visit the pirate's world. Almost as though he had called to her, she had thought. She realized now that he obviously had not. 

  


Her eyes shifted again to the row of bottles, this time noticing the dagger on the table. Lauren had always been uncomfortable around Captain Jack Sparrow, but now, for the first time ever, she began to feel afraid. _He really is a pirate,_ she thought.

  


The coin disappeared from his hand, as though it had never been. She blinked. 

  


"Didn't come to gloat, did ye ?" 

  


Lauren shook her head, not understanding. It occurred to her that he had not once called her 'love'. He always had before, even when he had clearly been annoyed with her. "Have I done something wrong ?" she asked innocently.

  


He didn't move. That in itself was scary. "I'm not sure what ye mean by that," Jack said, his voice quiet. Menacing. "Is killin' an innocent boy wrong, in yer book ?" 

  


"Killing ? What ? I...I don't know what you mean..." she stammered. For some reason, she thought of Leonard.

  


"Eddy. He's dead," the pirate responded flatly, rising to his feet. She gasped. "Jumped overboard, four nights ago. Lost at sea. But ye knew that already." His face, revealed in the candle's light, was haggard, the skin around the eyes dark, bruised-looking. Those eyes seemed to absorb the light without reflecting it. They were flat, reptilian, filled with hate as he glared at her.

  


She took a step back, terrified. "I didn't..." He grabbed the dagger, closed the space between them faster than she thought possible. She let out a thin scream and vanished.

  


  


  


_Poof._

  


She was back in her room. They were in her room. _The pirate was in her room._ His hand gripped her arm, hurting her. _This isn't happening._

  


"Didn't work, did it ?" Jack sneered. He had expected the girl to try to escape to her own world, had planned for it. He had almost expected her to change form, reveal herself as a demon. Jack yanked her to him, using her as a shield against whatever dangers might appear. His dagger was at her throat. He spun, dragging her with him, eyes rolling wildly as he took in the little bedroom, even smaller than his cabin aboard the _Pearl_. 

  


Desk, chest of drawers, narrow bed adorned with pillows. Pictures on the walls, frilly curtains at the window. Clutter; books and papers everywhere. Knick-knacks. Girlish flotsam and jetsam, incomprehensible. The girl sagged against him, limp with fear. Her eyes were tightly shut, leaking tears. "I didn't do it. I didn't mean to do it. It's not my fault. None of this is _real_," she whispered.

  


Jack shook his head, tried to clear it. He had imagined the confrontation with the girl over and over for three days and nights. Had attributed a countless variety of evil motives and machinations to her. Eddy's killer. In his wildest imaginings, he had not pictured this; the mundane room, the crying, terrified child. He had imagined fighting for his life, and the lives of his crew, not bullying a helpless girl. She was trembling so hard, he thought, she might cut her own throat on his dagger. Slowly, he eased his grip on her arm, moved the dagger away from her, sheathed it. 

  


Still furious, he pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed. Jack grabbed the little chair beside the desk and straddled it, leaning against the back. The pirate rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. He glared at the girl, waiting for her sobs to subside. Finally, she lifted her head. Blue eyes awash with tears met his own. "Wh-what happened ?" she stammered.

  


"Ye really don't know ?" he asked. She shook her head. Tears continued to spill. Despite himself, Jack's expression softened, just a bit. "About a week ago, he changed, our Eddy. Somethin' about a woman, love affair gone wrong." He ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck. "It made no sense." He shook his head, his eyes dark with hurt. 

  


Lauren felt a lump grow in her throat. She had written a story about Eddy meeting a woman, a proud Spanish beauty who had spurned his affections. It had made her feel better, after Leonard's rejection.

  


"We were going to sail back to Tortuga," Jack went on, dully. "Find the wench, see if he could patch things up with her. But nothin' would lift the lad out of his melancholy. Before we could get back to port, he jumped overboard. Left a note." Jack's mouth twisted. His hand fluttered up, a gesture of loss. "A poem he wrote. To her. _'Love is like a flame, it burns you when it's hot,'"_ he quoted.

  


Lauren gasped, horrified. Her hands rose to her mouth. She had written that poem. About Leonard. 

  


Jack pointed at her, his hand trembling. "Ye did it. I knew it was you. Eddy never would have acted that way on his own." Lauren flinched as though he had struck her. The betrayal in his eyes as they looked at her was worse than his rage of a minute ago.

  


"Ok, I did," she replied, slowly, "but I didn't mean to. You have to believe me !"

  


"Ye didn't mean to ?" he sneered, all his fury coming back in a rush. "Ye play with me crew like pawns, break their hearts, kill off an innocent man, and ye tell me ye didn't mean to ?" His hand rose, chopped at the air with each phrase. 

  


Lauren flinched, then pointed her own finger at him, defiant. "It wasn't my _fault !_ So I wrote about Eddy. Who knew it would come true in your world ?"

  


Jack sprang out of the chair, stalked across the tiny room, whirled to face her. "Who knew ? _Who knew ?" _He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Ye knew what would happen. Ye wrote him into me life in the first place !"

  


Lauren jumped to her feet, now just as angry as he was. She pushed his hands off her shoulders. They stood there, face to face, glaring into one another's eyes. "Remember the first time we met. Did you fall in love with me ?" she demanded.

  


"No," he said contemptuously. 

  


"Exactly !" She glared.

  


He sidled back from her, hands sketching a question in the air. "I don't quite follow yer logic," he said, raising an eyebrow.

  


"I wrote about it, it didn't happen. You're famous, lots of people write about you. I doubt very much that any of it really happens in your world." He swayed, shaking his head. She glared at him, took a step forward. "Look, have you ever had sex with Will Turner ?"

  


He gaped at her, unconsciously taking a step back as she advanced. "Will Turner ? Bootstrap Bill's son ? Why ?" She actually stamped her foot at him. He almost laughed. She was brave, in her own way, he had to give her that.

  


"Just answer the question," she gritted. "Ever have sex with Will Turner ?"

  


He waved one hand, indicating his body from head to toe. "_Hello ? _He's not exactly my type."

  


"That's my point !" The girl looked triumphant. "There must be two dozen stories, at least, about you and Will Turner." She blushed as he lifted an eyebrow at her. "I didn't write any of them. But people did, and it had no effect on you, did it ?"

  


He shook his head, looked at her sidelong. She could see the mistrust and hurt in his eyes. She slumped. _It doesn't matter that it's not my fault. _Eddy was real to Jack and his crew, and now he was dead. Jack would never forgive her. "What do you want me to do ?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. 

  


He advanced on her, swaying as though he walked the deck of his ship. He lowered his face to within an inch of hers, spoke quietly yet deliberately, haunted brown eyes locked on her own tear-filled blue ones. "Take me back to me ship. Leave me there. Never come back. Never interfere with me world again."

  


She nodded mutely, meeting his gaze. Fresh tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. 

  


He took hold of her arm. Waited. "Go ahead," he said coldly.

  


"Wait," she said slowly. She wiped her eyes on the back of her free hand. She frowned, then raised her eyes to his. "I can fix it. The, um, thing with Eddy." 

  


He shook his head decisively, tugged on her arm. "Eddy is dead. There's no fix to it," he said flatly.

  


"No," she protested, thinking fast. "He's not dead..." her face brightened, inspired. "He washed ashore on a deserted island. He realizes that it was foolish to throw his life away over some woman..." She looked at Jack confidently. "You'll just sail to the island in the _Pearl _and pick him up." 

  


Jack felt hope dawn in him in spite of himself. "Ye think ye could...no. Not possible."

  


She had seen the despair leave his eyes for a moment. She jerked her arm away from him, turned to the battered laptop on her desk. "I created him. I can do this." She turned on the computer, waited impatiently for the program to load, then began to type.

  



	8. Marrooned

_Click. Click. Clickety-click._

  


Captain Jack Sparrow peered over the girl's shoulder as she worked at the odd instrument. "Wouldn't it be easier just to write it on some of yer paper ?" he asked. _There was enough paper littering the room._

  


"No," she said, shortly, absorbed in her work. "I'm posting this on line." she turned, glared up at him. "Look, don't read over my shoulder. I hate when people do that." She waved vaguely. "Make yourself at home." 

  


_I have no intention of doing that_, he thought, aghast. Still, he obeyed. Jack prowled around the tiny room. His fingers traced the top of the clock radio, watching the glowing red numbers change. One finger hovered over a switch. _On/Off. _The finger abandoned the switch, waved through the air, describing a large arc as Jack turned. A larger switch was on the wall. _On/Off. _This one was irresistible. He circled his finger toward it, flicked it. _On. _The room was lit up from above by a glowing glass orb. Windmill blades spun in a circle. _Off. _He leaned to one side, flicked the switch again. _On. _The light and the breeze returned.

  


Lauren sighed theatrically, turned and frowned at him. _Off. _"Just stay out of my drawers, ok ?" she pleaded, nervous. 

  


He bowed slightly in assent, hiding a sudden smile. _It's poor me whose drawers ye've always been wantin' to get into, love. _He paced to the open door, glanced out into the hallway, turned away with a slight shudder. _If I step out of her sight, will I disappear ? _She had wreaked havoc in his world without ever leaving his cabin. He had no desire to leave the confines of the room.

  


Jacks eyes roamed over the ceiling. Smooth and white, it provided even less inspiration than the beams of his cabin. He was acutely aware of the afternoon sunlight through the curtains, the changing red numbers on the clock. _Time runs differently here. _His fingers circled, imagining the hands of a clock in his world. He tried not to think of young Eddy dying of starvation and thirst on a barren isle while his captain loitered in a world not his own. _Have to trust the girl. _The pirate's nerves jangled. 

  


His hands roamed across cluttered surfaces of their own volition, his eyes following, sometimes turning to watch the girl. She worked steadily, occasionally pausing to lean her head on one hand. A row of colorful little bottles drew him in. He picked them up one at a time, turning them in his fingers. Nail Polish. _The paint she wears on her fingernails. That's rather interesting. _He selected a silvery bottle, opened it. A tiny brush was attached to the cap. He ran it over the nail of his left index finger, surveyed the effect. Pleased, he dipped the brush in again. 

  


_Rumble._

  


Weaving and stumbling, Jack crossed to the window. The floor was solid, unmoving under his feet. _I hate that. _Fingers plucked at the frills of the curtain, pulled it aside slightly. A boy rolled down the street on some sort of conveyance; a plank on wheels. The faint rumbling noise was what had caught his attention in the first place. The boy looked up toward the house as he rolled by. Jack's eyes widened and he flinched back from the window. _Eddy._ He swooped back, peered again. _No, not Eddy. This boy was much younger. A good foot shorter, too. _The captain of the _Black Pearl _turned slowly and regarded Lauren, brown Kohl-rimmed eyes wide. _That's really interesting._

  


Jack's body ached, the aftereffects of adrenaline pinging through him. Now that his rage and fear had subsided, he could feel the ravages of the immense quantity of rum he'd recently consumed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The girl showed no sign of being done. He looked at the narrow bed, a small shudder running through his tired limbs. There was no other seat in the room. The pirate sprawled, propped against the pillows, hands folded across his chest. His stared hard at the girl's back. Against his will, his eyelids drooped as he watched her. 

  


_Clickety-click._

  


Lauren turned. "I'm finished !" The captain of the _Black Pearl _lay on her bed, staring at her through heavy-lidded eyes. "Um, well," she stammered, getting up and pushing the chair to one side gracelessly. She nearly knocked it over.

  


Jack watched, hiding his amusement. He was still more than a bit angry with her. The girl backed away, blushing furiously. _Captain Jack Sparrow is in my bed. _Her skin crawled. No matter that she had imagined it, fantasized about it, the reality was that he did _not _belong there.

  


"Not so much fun when the tables are turned, is it love ?" Jack drawled lazily. She had retreated as far away from him as she could. Her back was pressed up against the chest of drawers. Finally taking pity on her, he sat up on the edge of the bed. Hooking the little chair with his foot, he motioned for her to sit down. "Taken care of our Eddy ?" he asked. 

  


She nodded, taking her seat across from him.   
  
He waited. Looked at her encouragingly. "I don't suppose ye'd provide me with a hint as to where to find him ?" he said, finally. "Coordinates ?" His eyebrows raised. "Ye know, love, latitude and longitude ? It would be helpful." His hands described horizontal and vertical lines. _Please, _he thought to himself. 

  


"Um, no," she replied. 

  


_No, ye wouldn't, would ye_, he thought, annoyed. Then his warped mind gave him the image of Lauren coming up with a pair of random numbers. Latitude 78.3 by longitude -72.75, he imagined. Which would put Eddy somewhere slightly north of Greenland. _Probably for the best that she didn't try._ He looked at her with exaggerated patience. "So I'm to find him...how ?"

  


"Oh, easy. You just run up the Trades a bit, get the wind, you'll come right down to him," she said, relieved.

  


Like Mr. Cotton's parrot, the girl repeated a phrase she had heard, or more likely, read somewhere, without understanding. His heart sank. Hands rose in defeat, then fell to his sides. "I won't be able to find him."

  


She frowned. "Yes, you will," she said with conviction. "I wrote that you found him. You will find him." Impulsively, she patted his arm. Blue eyes met his, confident. "He's going to be all right," she said.

  


"Well, then. Good," he said, rising to his feet. _Just have to trust her. _"Take me back, so I can get to it, then. There's a good girl," he ordered, reaching for her arm.

  


Lauren shook her head. She was exhausted herself from the afternoon's events. "You can do it yourself. Just _poof_."

  


He swayed on the solid floor, raised an eyebrow at her. "No. Ye have to take me back."

  


"You don't need me to," she disagreed. "You can take yourself back. _Poof,_" she imitated his finger splaying motion.

  


He drew himself up to his full height. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love. I don't _poof,_" he said with dignity. His fingers splayed mockingly. The nails on the left hand were polished silver, the right hand bare. 

  


Lauren stifled a giggle. _He didn't bother to do both hands. _She resumed the argument. "You did today, you poofed here."

  


"No, love," he explained patiently. "Ye poofed here. I just came along for the ride."

  


"You poofed too." 

  


"Ye did it first," he accused. He was starting to feel foolish. _Why must she defy me ?_

  


"You invented it." Jack glared at her, affronted. She refused to be intimidated. "You did ! That first night, you told me to just go _poof_."

  


Jack folded his arms across his chest. He braced his feet against the hateful, unmoving floor. "Captain Jack Sparrow does not _poof_."

  


"Aah !" Lauren waved her hands at him, a shooing motion, exasperated. "My mom will be home soon. You have to leave. Come _on_ !" He lifted his chin, stubbornly. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Inspiration struck.

  


"Ok, you don't _poof_. Fine." She raised one hand in front of his face, pressed her thumb against her middle finger. His eyes followed, quizzical. She snapped her fingers. 

  


The pirate blinked bloodshot eyes, startled. "Ah, that just might work," he agreed. He raised his hand in salute, thumb and finger coming together as he did so.

  


_Snap._

  


Lauren flinched and startled back, knocking over her chair. Her eyes rolled around the room. She breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and picked up the chair. She was alone.

  



	9. Rum & Coke

Lauren got off the activity bus and started home. Working on the _Clarion_ was so cool. Walking home alone on Thursdays, without anyone calling her names, was good too. As she headed up the street, though, she saw that Shari and one of her friends were sitting out on Shari's stoop. _Oh, no. _The day had been going so well, too. _Figures._ As she approached, Lauren felt the familiar knot tighten in her stomach.

"Look, here comes the loser."

Lauren was twenty feet away. She tried to ignore the girls. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Gothic bitch."

She was even with the sidewalk that ran up to Shari's town house. Lauren squared her shoulders. Shaking, she turned and walked right up to the two girls. _I don't need to be afraid of you,_ she thought, defiantly. _A pirate tried to cut my throat just last week. Compared to that, you're nothing._

"Hey. Look, I'm tired of you calling me names." The two gaped at her, then exchanged looks. She ran on before they could reply. "I've never done anything to you. So you don't like the way I dress, or whatever. So what. I don't particularly care for the way you dress, either." She looked from one to the other. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. Consciously, she relaxed them. "If you really want a fight, I'll give you one." She waited, raised one eyebrow at them, a perfect imitation of Captain Jack Sparrow. They looked down, suddenly interested in the toes of their shoes.

Lauren backed away to the main sidewalk. "Just leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone," she said quietly. "No problem." She spun and walked away. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. To her surprise, there was silence. No taunts followed her up the street.

Lauren grinned, skipped a couple of steps. _They'll probably go right back to picking on me tomorrow._ It didn't really matter. Knowing she could defend herself was enough. She arrived on her own stoop, reached for the house key. _Aah ! Not again. I am _so _stupid ! _She slumped on the stoop. The air was chilly. _Mom'll probably be late, too._

———————

_Rumble._

Lauren didn't look up the first time. Leonard rolled by again. She looked at him through her bangs. The third time, he rolled up to the stoop. He sighed loudly, pulled out a key ring. Stepping past her, he unlocked the door. Silently, he turned to go.

"Wait," she held out her hand. "Thanks."

He hesitated, then let her take his hand and pull him down to sit beside her. "No problem." They sat quietly for a minute. His brown eyes slipped sideways, looked into her blue ones. "I miss you," he said, simply.

"Me too." She smiled at him, tentatively.

"Um, you know, I'd really like it if you would... like, go with me," he blurted, blushing. "Or, just be friends, that's ok too," he amended.

She smiled but did not reply. _In public ? Or just in private ? _She really did like him. She waited.

"There's a dance tomorrow. Duh, you knew that." He blushed again, glared at his feet. "Do you want to go with me ? Not to dance," he added. He grimaced. "You know, just to hang out ?"

She smiled brilliantly at him. _A school dance is very public._ "I'd love to." He grinned at her. She slouched, just a bit. _You really ought to kiss me now_, she thought. To her surprise and delight, Leonard did.

———————

Lauren gathered up her courage. She had to know if Eddy was all right. _I know he's all right. I'm fairly sure he's all right. _She imagined Captain Jack Sparrow snapping his fingers and returning to kill her if there was anything wrong with his crew. _No, he wouldn't, really... I don't think._

She got two cans of coke out of the refrigerator. She passed the living room. Her mother looked up from the tv. "Everything ok, honey ?"

Impulsively, Lauren went over and kissed her on the cheek. Her mother's arms came up,hugged her. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you too." Her mother's hand brushed her bangs away from her face. "You're growing up so fast."

Lauren grinned, headed for the stairs.

"Two cokes ?" her mother called after her. "You're not hiding a boy in your room, are you ?" she teased.

Lauren smiled at her. _You have no idea. _

_Poof._

Captain Jack Sparrow jumped, staggered to one side. It had been months since the girl had last appeared in his cabin. _Really wasn't expecting that,_ he thought, righting himself. "Hello, love."

"Hi." She waited, looking expectantly from him to the table and chairs.

He took the hint. "Ah. Have a seat," he offered, slumping in his accustomed chair and reaching for a bottle of rum. _There was something different about her._

"I brought us both a drink. It's coke," she explained, sliding a can across to him. He watched as she took the other one, popped the tab. "I can, like, legally drink this."

Jack took the can, examined it with interest.

"Go ahead, it's good," Lauren urged. "You can mix it with your rum, actually. Rum and coke. It's a famous drink in my world."

He popped the tab the way she had done. A faint fizzing sound rose up. Tentatively, he took a swallow. The liquid was icy cold, sweet. It burned, not unpleasantly. "Interesting." Jack poured some into his glass, watched bubbles rise and pop. He added a healthy portion of rum. He smiled at the girl, raised his glass to her.

She raised her can. Jack leaned forward, and they clinked the containers together. "To the _Pearl_," he said, his customary toast.

"To the _Black_ _Pearl_," Lauren echoed. They sat silently for a time, sipping their drinks.

He looked sidelong at the girl, appraising her from beneath his lashes. There was definitely something different about her. She seemed at ease. She grinned, her eyes meeting his. _Still has that look in them. No, wait... _The look was there, but Captain Jack Sparrow was no longer its focus. His teeth flashed in return, a roguish grin.

"You got Eddy back all right ?" she asked, rhetorically. Jack nodded. "Is he...doing ok ?"

Jack laughed. "Drank me under the table, last month in Tortuga."

She gaped at him, amazed. "You're kidding !"

"No, really, he did." he insisted. "Our Eddy. I was surprised meself, when I came to."

She grinned from ear to ear, immensely pleased with her creation. Jack couldn't help but grin back. He took another drink of the rum and coke, looked at her seriously. "Ye won't be writin' any more stories about me world, will ye now, Lauren ?"

Blue eyes gazed steadily into his. "No." She smiled. "Actually, I'm pretty much sticking to non-fiction. I'm writing for the school paper now." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And occasionally, I write some poetry."

He recoiled, eyes wide. "Limericks," Lauren added. She giggled.

Jack threw back his head and laughed out loud. _She's joking._ "Got me," he admitted, giving her a jaunty salute. The pirate nursed his drink as the girl rambled on about her life. He let the words wash over him as he savored the taste of the rum and coke. Most of what she said made no sense to him. _She's happy, that's what it all means._

"Who's the boy ?" he asked, leaning toward her. She hadn't mentioned the boy yet.

Lauren blushed. "Leonard. He goes to my school."

"Not a pirate, then ?" he grinned.

"Skateboarder," she replied.

Jack remembered the boy on the plank. _The one who looks like Eddy. _He swirled his drink, looked over at the girl. _Her eyes definitely have that look in them now. But not for me. For Leonard. God help him. _He smirked. It had all turned out rather well, he thought, despite all she had put him through. _She never slapped me, not even once._

"Well, it's getting late," she said, without regret. She rose from the table, meticulously collecting the empty coke cans.

Jack set down his glass, rose to his feet. He sketched a bow to her. She grinned. Her hands were filled with cans.

"Allow me, love," he said, gallantly. Captain Jack Sparrow raised his hand, fingers poised. He saluted her smartly.

_Snap. _

———————

Author's note: Thank you to all who took the time to review the work in progress—Aristea, Pen D. Fox, SparrowSavvy, Elderberry, midnights shadow, PhilosopherCat, Satan's Sidekick, Skimbleshanks, the Railway CAT, XxSablexX, Bulletproof Dork, Child Of The Gods, country pirate, Dalas, Dreamality, Erinya, Lurker, Golden Horizon, intriKate, Kelsey, Kitty the drunken butterfly, Layla Sparrow, lemluvspirates, lem68, Lordlanceahlot, lovely moon, Luinecu, Marahootei, Medea's Lullaby, remnants-2011, sophie, Spyro, and visiouscobain.


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